


Auston

by hfleury



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Not Hockey Player(s), M/M, Toronto Maple Leafs, based on a movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 13:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20026576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hfleury/pseuds/hfleury
Summary: Centuries ago the Matthews family was cursed leaving Auston with the nose- rather, snout of a pig. To break the curse he must be accepted by one of his own, but, of course, that is easier said than done. (Based on the movie "Penelope")





	Auston

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gravityinglass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gravityinglass/gifts).

> I had a great time writing this work, so I really hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Disclaimer: This work is based off of the movie "Penelope". I am not claiming to have ownership over the characters, dialogue, or plot.

Auston’s parents were born into what most would consider the perfect life: old money, blue-blooded, society’s sweethearts. Having played host to kings, queens, and various other powers that be, they were used to gracing the pages of tabloid column and gossip forums. So naturally when Ema, Auston’s mother, went into labor they welcomed the attention of the press. After all, it was supposed to be the happiest day of the couple’s lives, wasn’t it? 

“Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?” One reporter yelled as Brian, Auston’s father, assisted Ema out of their car.

“We’ll be happy with whatever we have,” Ema responded with a smile. Brian pushing a half-dozen or so reporters out of their path to the hospital entrance. A midwife guided Ema behind a closed door, leaving the swarm of cameras, microphones, and notepads waiting in the lobby.

Local legends would claim that the Matthews family was cursed. Several generations in the past, a Matthews ancestor had a fling with a lowly servant girl. After telling his family of his plans to marry the servant he quickly had a change of heart, soon after marrying someone “more suitable”. The servant, pregnant and heartbroken, disappeared - many believing that she had fallen off of a nearby cliff. That night her mother, the town witch, came to the Matthews home seeking revenge. Wanting the family to feel the same pain and rejection her daughter had felt, she commanded that the next son in the Matthews family would be born with the face of a pig. As the legend told, only when one of their own kind - rich, blue blooded, aristocrats- claim the son as their own, till death do they part, will the curse be broken.

For the next five generations, each Matthews bride lived in terror of being the first to give birth to a son. But, as luck would have it, they gave birth to all daughters, who, in return had all daughters,

Who had all daughters,

Who had all daughters,

Who had all daughters.

Finally, born to Ema and Brian Matthews, a beautiful baby boy: Auston. And, as the legend foretold, his ears and nose were that of a pig. Of course, Ema and Brian were devastated. Ema’s mind immediately wandered into the future.  _ How was he going to find a partner with a face like that? Who would accept him? No one. After all, who could love someone with the face of a pig? _

* * *

“Auston,” Jack smiled, staring longingly into the one-sided glass. “Dear, sweet, Auston. You see, like you, I felt imprisoned most of my life.” He was standing in what, at first glance, appeared to be a home library. The walls were lined head to toe with a wide array of books and were only interrupted by a fireplace and the mirrored one-sided glass that hung above it.

“Really?” Auston asked, barely turning his he head from his book. “By what? Your good looks and your good name?”

“Yes, exactly,” Jack said, his expression serious.

“No one ever seems to see past that,” Auston said quietly, turning away. He knew Jack couldn’t see him, so his expression didn’t matter.

“No one,” Jack repeated. “And Auston, curse or no curse, if I am more than my name and my face, then surely you are more than yours.”

“ _ I knew he was the one, _ ” Ema said with a smile, her gaze glued to a monitor which was playing a live feed of the library. 

“ _ He just might be, _ ” Brian agreed.

“Sweet Auston,” Jack continued. “Let me in. Please, let me in,” he repeated, gingerly. As he finished, one of the bookshelves slowly creaked open, Ema’s screams could be heard clearly from down the hall as Auston took a step outside.

“Hello,” Before he could get another word out Jack had sprinted out of the room and down the stairs. 

"_HE’S A PIG! SOMEONE HELP ME! HE’S A KILLER PIG!” _ Brian ran after him, trying to grab him before he reached the gate.

“Why Auston?” Ema groaned, pacing the landing of the stairs.

“I’m not the one that ran,” Auston groaned, barely bothering to look down from the balcony.

“Well,” Ema huffed, “Of course they run. You can’t spring yourself on them like that, sweetheart. Would you show someone a mole on a first date?” She waited for Auston to answer, but he gave no reply. “Of course not,” she continued. “You wait until you're married to do that kind of stuff.”

“I didn’t show him a mole,” Auston snapped. “I showed him my face.”

“Sweetheart I know, it’s-” she stopped herself, taking a seat at the bottom of the stairs. “He really liked you.”

“No, mom, he didn’t,” Auston said, making his way down the stairs and taking a seat beside her.

“No, no, no, he didn’t like your  _ nose _ , that’s what he didn’t like. You’re not your nose, Auston.”

“Aren’t I?”

“That isn’t your nose, dear. That’s your great-great-great-grandfather’s nose. He did this to you- to  _ us _ . That isn’t you.”

Auston had been reminded over the years that he was not the only one affected by the curse, in fact, no one had suffered more than his mother. For months after his birth, Auston was taken to specialist after specialist as his parents desperately tried to get his nose, or in this case, snout, removed. Through every doctor they consulted, the result was always the same. “ _ The carotid artery appears to run directly through the nose, making any attempt at removal unfeasible. I’m sorry, Mister and Misses Matthews, but the snout stays. _ ” Of course, Ema always meant well, and always did what she thought was best to protect her son; most importantly from reporters, who would frequently camp out around, and sometimes even  _ inside  _ of, their home to try and snap a shot of young Auston. Ema refused to let his face be shown but as the months of harassment went on and with the public demanding to see the face that had caused so much terror, she did what any mother would do: fake her child’s death and have her ‘body’ cremated. With the public left to mourn his tragic passing, and him being safely locked away from the outside world, Ema need only worry about protecting Auston from minor threats: Brian not being able to eat bacon in the morning, the butler reciting insensitive pig-themed nursery rhymes, and as Auston aged, himself. As most curious children would, Auston was constantly trying to escape the home he had been held in. Every couple of weeks he would sneak out into the yard and to the fence, where other children would be playing just outside of his reach. The other children would usually pay him no mind, or stare for a split second before Ema was dragging him, kicking and screaming, back into the safety of their home. Having no other choice, Auston passed the time alone, doing whatever he could to entertain himself. All the while Ema spent every waking hour grooming him- preparing him to be a suitable husband. She taught him everything from basic addition, to French, to how to properly fold a napkin at a formal dinner. 

On his eighteenth birthday Ema hired Patrick, a matchmaker to the rich and famous. Now, to break the curse, all they had to do was find a high society blue-blood, one of his own kind, to accept him for who he was, till death do they part. This, however, was easier said than done. Suitor after suitor would come into the Matthews’ home one by one, speak with Auston for days- sometimes even months- profess their love, and, after seeing him, would  _ very _ quickly leave. Every time was the same, they would leave, usually screaming, through the door, window, whatever was closest and were politely invited back into the home, where they were legally gagged into secrecy. 

This time, Jack, was unlike any time before. He had escaped Brian and the butler, running all the way to the police station, where he promptly filed a report. 

“I’m telling you, he had a snout.”

“A snout?” A disgruntled officer repeated, scribbling onto a clipboard.

“Y-yeah. And fangs.” The officer couldn’t help but laugh. “Listen, I know what you’re thinking- the Matthews family, so sweet and innocent right? When Auston mentioned the curse I thought it was just a figure of speech, and maybe he was just really ugly or something. But it’s not,” Jack lowered his voice, leaning in as close as he could to the glass separating him and the officer. “I’m telling you, if I didn’t get out of there when I did, that monster would have eaten me alive,”   
“Okay,” the officer huffed, leaning over his shoulder. “Toss him in holding overnight,”

“Wait, wha-” Before he could protest, Jack was in the grasp of two officers, being tugged to the back of the station.

* * *

“Rise and shine!” Ema said with a smile as she burst into Auston’s bedroom, carrying a large trunk. “Up, up, up! We’re moving!”

“W-” Auston started, pushing himself upright as Ema opened his blinds, unleashing the morning’s light into the room. “We’re moving? Why?”

“No particular reason,” Ema sang as she plopped the trunk at the end of his bed. “Don’t you think we’re due for a change?”

“No,” Auston answered bluntly. “Not unless this has something to do with Jack.”

“Pft, why would it have anything to do with him?” 

“He got away, didn’t he? Without signing the contract?” Ema huffed, tossing Auston a newspaper. 

“ _ Jack Eichel, local blue blood, was jailed late yesterday morning after claiming to have seen a ‘hideous pig-faced boy’ in the Matthews home. Eichel is believed to have been hallucinating, possibly under the influence of a mixture of drugs and alcohol. _ ” Auston read aloud.

“It’s going to be twenty-one years ago all over again,” Ema said, becoming more frantic as she shoved some stray clothing into the trunk. “Reporters popping out of drawers, Auston will be exposed and then,” she paused. “Then what chance will we have?”

“Sweetheart,” Brian said, appearing in the doorway. “I think you may be overreacting.”

“Yeah,” Auston agreed. “Where would we move? France?”

“You  _ could _ get a chance to practice your French,” Brian chuckled. “Can you imagine Auston walking the streets of France? Or, hell, even getting through the airport?”

“You know what,” Ema paused, dropping the bunch of clothes that was in her hands. “You’re right.” Without another word, she walked out of the room.

* * *

“Where's Matt Martin?” Jack screamed, barging through the Daily Time’s central office. “ _ You _ -” he pointed as he stormed into an open office. “Martin, Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“I wrote a story,” Matt replied with a smirk.

“I’m next in line for chairman of the board,” Jack whined, clutching a handful of now wrinkled newspaper. “Do you know what a story like this will do to me? What  _ my father _ will do to me?”

“Well, that’s not really my problem now, is it?”

“Okay,” Jack said in a low voice, taking a deep breath. “I am not a delusional maniac. Am I? No. So,” he leaned in, his voice still low. “Either you’re going to print a retraction or so help me God, I’m going to rip your guts out one at a time until-”

“I get the picture,” Matt rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you go tell it to someone who cares?”

“I  _ DEMAND _ a retraction,” Jack screamed. “I will not stand here and let you ruin my life you incompetent bastard. I’m telling you she had a pig face and-”

"Woah, woah, woah,” A man’s voice cut him off. “Why don’t you come with me and we can figure this whole thing out, huh?”

“Brad,” Matt started. “There’s nothing there.”

“Sure there is,” The man, Brad, responded. “Please, Jack was it?” Jack gave him a nervous nod. “Jack, step into my office.” He complied, following Brad to the back of the building and into a small office. “Twenty-one years ago I lost a finger to this story,” he began, taking a seat at his desk. “I hid in a tiny drawer in their kitchen, trying to get a picture of baby Auston. I only caught a glimpse of the little shit before that beast attacked me with a knife.”

“He had a knife?” Jack asked, shocked. 

“No,” Brad laughed. “His mother, Ema, did. All of this to say, I believe you. None of this matters, of course, until we have some hard proof. If you could, say, get back into their home and-”

“Absolutely not,” Jack cut him off. “I’m not going back there.”

“Okay, fine,” Brad huffed. “Then we need someone who will. We’ll just hook them up with the  agency that sent you.”

“No, they only see old money, it's part of the whole curse thing,” Jack explained. “So good luck trying to bribe them, plus, it’s not like they’re knocking down the door for a chance to meet him, anyways.”

“Maybe a regular blue-blood won’t take the bribe, but I know one that might,” Brad said with a malicious smile. "Let me make some calls."

* * *

“Okay, Patrick,” Ema said, taking a seat at the head of the kitchen table. “What have you got?”

“Well,” Patrick began, spreading out a dozen-or-so manilla folders. “We’ve got a few pretty solid candidates. First,  Connor McDavid, he’s-”

“Sounds lovely,” Ema tossed his folder to the side. “Next?”

“Matt-”

“Great,” Emma interrupted again.

“You know what, why don’t I just say ‘_here’s twelve men, trust me_’?” 

“Sounds good to me," she shrugged. "Now, lets talk about the dowery, I think we should double it,”

“If they can’t stand me now what makes you think they’ll be able to for double?” Auston asked, making a b-line for the refrigerator.

“They won’t with that attitude,”

“Oh,  _ yeah _ ,” Auston scoffed. “It’s for sure my attitude.” As Ema and Patrick continued their discussion, Auston couldn’t help but stare at his reflection in the window.

“Honey,” Ema paused, looking at Auston with pity in her eyes.

“I know, mom. It's not my face; It's my great, great, great grandfather's face and he's not me, and I'm not him and I'm not me.”

“And don't you forget it,” Ema said with a smile, turning back to Patrick.

* * *

“Hey, pal, wait up,” Brad called, cornering a young man in a dimly lit club. The sound of slot machines and roulette tables almost completely drowned out his voice.

“Do I know you?” The man asked, trying to step around Brad’s petite figure. He was much taller than Brad was, and would have easily been able to slip by him if it wasn’t for Brad’s quick counter steps. 

“No, but I know you, Mitchell Marner,” he answered. “You see, I did a little research and it seems in a few short years you've managed to gamble away the fortune your family spent generations building. You got disowned a year ago by a disapproving father and-” The man tried once again to squeeze past Brad. “Hey, hear me out,” he pleaded. “I'll make it worth your while.”

“You got the wrong guy,” Mitch said with a shrug. 

“Five thousand bucks worth your while?” Brad said, extending a large envelope in Mitch’s direction.

“What do you want?” Mitch asked, stopping dead in his tracks.

“A picture,” Brad answered simply. “All you’d have to do is go into a home and snag a picture.”

“Why can’t you do it?”

“Because,” he explained. “The family will only let very specific men into their home. They’re trying to find a suitor for their son, but no one has ever seen his face.”

“Seems sketchy,” Mitch said, wrinkling his nose.

“Do you want the money or not?” 

“How am I supposed to take a picture of someone who has never been seen?”

“If he trusts you, he’ll show you his face. I’ve got a jacket with a camera hooked up in the lapel, all you have to do is raise your arm to take a picture.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

* * *

“We'll need your signature on the last page,” Patrick said as he ushered in the last of a long line of suitors. “Just your standard gag. You don't talk, we don't talk.” 

“Just how ugly is this girl?” One of the men muttered to another, reading over the document.

“I believe the young lady is waiting,” Ema called, escorting the men up to the library.

“And you are?” Patrick asked, stopping one of the men in line. 

“Mitchell. Marner, the uh, the agency sent me over.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, right. Marner,” Patrick said, scanning through the paperwork that was in his hand but quickly shrugging it away. Mitch followed the rest of the group up the stairs and into the library, where he stood at the back of the crowd. He couldn’t see the front of the room, or most of the room for that matter. What he could see, the books that lined every wall from top to bottom, intrigued him. He turned around, quickly grabbing one of them off of the shelf and shoving it into his jacket.  _ With all of the first editions in this room, it has to be worth something, right? _

“Hello,” a male voice peeked from behind one of the walls, which had popped out from the others. “I’m Auston.” Immediately, the room was thrown into chaos. Mitch couldn’t see exactly what they were running from, but every man in the room was out in a matter of seconds. Instinctually he dove to the ground, covering his head as he felt the herd rush past him. “And you all must be late for tea,” the voice, Auston, laughed. Mitch waited a few seconds before daring to uncover his head.  _ What the fuck was that? _ He took another look around before tossing himself down on the couch, which sat in the middle of the room facing the fireplace.

* * *

“How could you?” Ema’s voice rang as she barged into Auston’s room. 

“Just speeding things up, no need to waste anyone’s time.” He rolled his eyes as he made his way into the kitchen.

“Oh, and now you're just going to make a pig of yourself?”

“No,” he spat. “Can’t you see that's already been done for me.”

“Stop it,” she spat back. A heavy silence filled the room for a few seconds before she continued. “Auston, just one man, one man to end this.”

“And he'll run too, they always run, Mom, why can't you accept that?” Auston sighed, taking a seat at the kitchen table beside Patrick. “For seven years I've been watching them run, I mean, do you have any idea how that makes me feel?” 

“I'm sorry, but we just can't quit.”

“Yes we can because…” he paused. “No matter how much I want to believe there's one man who won't run away, one man who-”

“Sweet loving angel of all things merciful,” Ema cut him off, spotting Mitch from the corner of her eye. “Did he see?” She pulled Auston closer to the monitor.

“He must have, he was there,” Auston said, staring at him. “Who is he?”

“Who cares? Just go!” Ema shoved him out of the room, prompting him to return to his bedroom and take his place behind the glass. For a few moments he just watched as Mitch inspected the book in his jacket.  _ Of course the thief stayed.  _

“You're, uh, you’re still here?” He said quietly into the microphone. The sound of his voice made Mitch jump up from the couch. “Did you see?”

“See what?” Mitch asked, quickly shoving the book back into his jacket. He moved from the couch, searching for the source of the voice. 

“So, you didn't see?”

“I didn't?” Mitch repeated, confusion covering his face.

“Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Don't mess with me,” Auston huffed.

“What makes you think I'm messing with you?”

“Why are you here?”

“Look I'm sorry. Should I go?”

“Why are you looking around like that?” Auston asked bluntly. “Searching for anything worth taking? I mean, besides the book you’ve shoved in your coat.”

“You saw that?”

“Were you trying to hide it?”

“Well... Yeah. I was stealing it, or, at least, I was trying to.”

“So, you're a fan of the money?” 

“I'm a big fan of the money,” Mitch chuckled. “Although, I don’t think it really cares for me.”

“Maybe you and the money just weren’t meant to be,” Auston offered with a laugh. “Maybe you should move on.” Mitch offered a laugh in response, not wishing to push the conversation any further in that direction. “There are 326 first editions in that room. Of those, 300 are worth  over 50,000, a dozen or so are worth over 25,000 and I'm afraid there's only one that's valued under a hundred.”

“Only one, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“You don't say,” Mitch smiled “Under a hundred?”

“I'm afraid so. And… I'm also afraid that it's time for you to go-”

“But it's your favorite just the same?” Mitch cut him off.

“What?”

“I said, _your favorite just the same_."

“I heard you, but how did you-” he stopped himself. “Top shelf, third from the left,  _ Moby Dick _ . It's a first edition. Wait till I'm gone or they'll see you.” 

“What do you mean, see me?” Mitch asked, looking to the shelf in question. He waited for Auston to respond, but there was no answer. Auston hadn’t left, he was waiting to see what Mitch would do but, of course, how would Mitch know that? “Hello? Anyone home?” Auston stayed silent, watching. Mitch slowly approached the book shelf, grabbed the copy of  _ Moby Dick _ and made his way out of the room.  _ Typical.  _ Auston huffed.  _ Of course he wasn’t interested in talking to me. He’s just here for the money and- _

“Got ya!” Mitch yelled, hopping back into the room. His expression fell when he realized that the room was still empty. “No? Auston?” he called, making his way back to the couch. “Auston?” he sang.

“Will you be back tomorrow?” Auston blurted into his microphone, sending his voice booming into the library.

“I knew it! I knew you were there,” Mitch laughed, tossing the copy of  _ Moby Dick  _ onto the couch. “Yeah, I’ll be back tomorrow.” Mitch made his way out of the house and down the street, spotting Brad’s van just outside. 

“So?” Brad asked as Mitch approached the van. He and Jack had been not-so-patiently awaiting Mitch’s return.

“I didn't get it,” Mitch shrugged, tossing Brad his jacket.

“How could you not get it,” Jack snapped. “Half the men in this fucking city-”

“Relax, man,” Mitch stopped him. “I’m coming back tomorrow.”

“You better.”

* * *

“Alright,” Mitch said, checking his teeth in the one-sided glass. “I can do this.” He wandered over to one of the bookcases in the corner, staring up at a violin that sat on the shelf. In another life, before he gambled away his life’s savings, he was known to spit out a song or two on the piano. 

“Do you play?” Auston’s voice rang out, making Mitch jump around to face the glass.

“ _ Fuck _ , I wish you'd stop doing that,” he laughed, trying to brush away his awkwardness.

“Do you play?” Auston repeated. 

“Me? Nah.” 

“But you do play something,” Auston insisted. “What?”

“What makes you think I play something?”

“There’s just something about you I guess,” Auston shrugged.

“Guess,” Mitch shot him a devilish smile.

“Alright.” Auston shot out of his room, down the hall and into the kitchen. He gave his parents some instructions and barely ten minutes later a band of instruments had been set up in the library. For the next hour Mitch bounced from instrument to instrument, none of which he knew how to play. Every so often he would turn to the glass, beckoning Auston to come out, but every time he would refuse, instead telling Mitch to move onto the next instrument. After he had exhausted all of the available instruments the room was cleared out and the two sat down for a game of chess. The board was set up on Mitch’s side of the glass; to move, Auston would call out instructions.

“You want to be a hortomaculturalwhat?” Mitch asked, leaning over the board. He’d never been a fan of chess, but when Auston asked if he’d like to play he couldn’t refuse. 

“A horticulturalist,” Auston repeated. “You know? Someone who works with plants.”

“Right,” Mitch snickered.

“Why is that funny?”

“It’s not, I mean, plants are great. I just thought of you as like... like a cop,” he shrugged. “You know, seeing as you've got the whole interrogation thing down.”

“Shut up,” Auston laughed. “It's your move.”

“Alright,” he turned his attention back to the board, opting to move his queen. 

“Oh, you really don't want to do that,” Auston grinned. 

“Why not?”

“Because I'll kill her.”

“What if I asked you not to?”

“I'd still kill her.” Mitch pretended to be offended. “Come on, you'd be begging me to.”

“Fine,” Mitch huffed, retracting his move. “So, beer. You've never had a beer?”

“Of course I've had a beer,” Auston said, shaking his head. “I’m not a child.”

“On tap?”

“No, not on tap.”

“Well, then you've never had a beer.”

“I don’t think there’s a difference- wait, your knight can't do that.”

“My knight?”

“The one you just moved, the horse,” Auston instructed.

Ugh,  _ fine _ ,” Mitch huffed, again retracting his move. “I have a crazy idea; how about you and me heading down to the Cloverdilly Pub right now?” 

“ _ Cloverdilly _ ?”

“Best beer, best music, some of the best beer bums in town,” Mitch smiled. “You’d love it.”

“Thanks, maybe later,” Auston declined, shifting his focus back to the chess board. “It’s still your move.”

“Auston, come on, you've got to get out of here sometime,” Mitch said, peering into the glass, as if he could see Auston. “Right? You can’t stay behind this wall for the rest of your life. What are you waiting for?” He waited for an answer, but there was none. “You know, truth is, you're...you're not missing much.”

“Really?” Auston sighed. “The Cloverdilly Pub sounds fun.”

“Yeah, but... aside from that.”

“And the street fairs?” Auston added. “I hear they sell really cool stuff right on the street.”

“You know, the vendors themselves are pretty cool too if you stop to talk to them.”

“Oh, and the park?”

“The park is great. I used to spend every weekend there just hanging on a bench writing stupid love songs, people watching,” he trailed off.

“Used to? You don't do that anymore?” Auston questioned. “What are you doing instead?”

“Well, beating you at chess, for one,” Mitch said, moving his queen to the same position he’d tried to in the first place.

“I warned you I'd kill her,” Auston shook his head. 

“That's great because as soon as my guys here have seen what you've done-”

“The game will be over,” Auston cut him off. “Your queen will be dead.”

“My king's still pretty active, you know?”

“Once the queers dead the kings useless.”

“What's that about?”

“Maybe he's too depressed to fight,” He really loved her you know? 

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“My queen to yours, checkmate.”

* * *

“Man, what is this guy doing?” Jack asked nervously, pacing a short track behind Brad’s van. It’d been more than a month since first sent Mitch into the home and, per usual, they were waiting for him to arrive.

“Wasting all my film,” Brad huffed, tossing down a stack of film.

“He's doing it on purpose,” Jack stopped in his tracks, turning to Brad. “He's going for the dowry.”

“I wish I could find a guy with a dowry,” Brad laughed.

“Why else would it be taking you so long?” Jack ignored his comment. “Auston revealed himself to me straight away.”

“I guess he liked you more.”

“Hey,” Mitch called, jogging up to the van. “Sorry I’m late I-”

“You are going for the dowery, right?” Jack stopped him. “Why settle for five thousand when you could get ten times that, right? Well, maybe you're forgetting - I've seen him. He is grotesque.”

“Shut him up,” Mitch turned to Brad, grabbing his camera-laced jacket.

“I'm talking un-kissable ugly. Nightmare ugly-” Before he could continue, Mitch had violently pressed his hand against his mouth, stopping his words. 

“Listen you little worm,” Mitch pulled Jack’s face inches away from his own. “I know your kind, spoiled rotten mama's boy. You have no right to-  _ Fuck!”  _ Mitch pulled his hand away. “He fucking licked me.”

“Jack,” Brad sighed.

“What?”

“Don't lick Mitch,”

“You can't blame us for being a little suspicious,” Jack scowled. 

“If you’re that suspicious, find someone else,” Mitch shrugged.

“Fine, give us back the money,” Jack smirked. “Oh wait, you can’t, can you? Gambled it all away?” Mitch didn’t bother responding, instead, he made his way towards the Matthews’ estate.  _ Fuck those guys. _

* * *

“It's starting!” Ema shouted, dragging Patrick in front of the monitor. “Brian, come on! It's starting!

“Okay, I've got it,” Auston’s voice boomed into the library. “You play the piano, I’d bet my life on it.”

“Alright,” Mitch smiled, taking a seat at the piano in the corner of the room. “Just remember, you should  _ never _ bet a better.” He took a seat, staring at the keys. “And a one, and a two and a one…” He shakily began to play  _ You Are My Sunshine _ . It by no means was a perfect rendition, but for someone who hadn’t played in five years, it was pretty good.

“No, it's B flat, B flat on the right hand,” Auston said gently. “No, right hand!” Mitch felt as his hand slowly overlapped with his own, guiding his fingers over the keys. “You see, the left hand stays, and the right hand plays the chords.”

“Yeah, it's better,” Mitch smiled. Taking his time, he turned to look at Auston. “ _ Shit! _ ” He couldn’t help but jump away. After the initial shock wore off, all he could do was stand there, not sure what to say. He brought his hand to his face, accidentally triggering the camera on his lapel “ _ Fucking- _ no, Auston-”

“I'm a monster,” Auston said quietly, taking a running start out of the room.

“No,” Mitch called, running after him. “No you're not, Auston!”

“Patrick, stay with Mitch,” Ema commanded. “Darling, do not…” she tossed her arms around Auston before he had a chance to run any farther. “Please, do not-”

“I told you!” Auston yelled, pushing her away. “I told you!”

“No, you ran, Auston! It was you this time!” She yelled, grabbing his wrist, determined to keep him in the room.

“He said  _ shit _ , Mom.”

“So what?”

“He said  _ shit _ and then he just stood there staring at me. No one's ever just stood there before.”

“If you give the poor boy a chance to adjust. I mean, put yourself in his shoes-” Patrick started.

“What are you doing?” Ema barked. “I told you to stay with Mitch,”

“Oh, shit, sorry,” Patrick said, rushing out of the door. “He couldn't have gone far.” The two began to search the home, looking for any sign of him. 

“Did you get it?” Brad asked, meeting Mitch outside of his van.

“Yeah, I got it.” Mitch said, slamming the camera onto the curb. The device crumbled, smashing into hundreds of tiny pieces.

“What the fuck, man? I needed that photo!”

“He's not what Jack said he was,” Mitch yelled, turning around and running back towards the house. “Leave him alone!”

“Marchand?” Ema yelled, spotting Brad’s van from the yard. “Patrick, Lock the gate!”

“No, don't! Don't shut the gate!” Mitch yelled, taking a running leap over the fence. He ran straight past Ema and Patrick, back into the home. “Auston? Auston! There's something I have to tell you,” he called out to Auston, who was leaning over the second floor’s balcony.

“No, Auston,” Patrick yelled, out of breath. “He's a spy.”

“No, I’m,” Mitch retorted. “Well, yes, technically I am, but-.”

“He's a spy, he's working for Brad Marchand, that disgusting reporter who forced me to bury you,” Ema called. “I hope you were well paid, because you just said goodbye to a fortune.” 

“Wait!” Patrick cautioned, stepping in between Mitch and Ema. “He's still one of your own kind, he could still break the curse.”

“Mitch,” Auston started, slowly making his way down the stairs, closer to him. “I know this face repulses you, and I- and I wouldn't dream of asking you to accept it, but this isn't me. The real me is inside here somewhere just waiting to get out and you can make that happen. Once the curse is broken I'll be just like anybody else.”

“Auston, I-”

“Marry me, Mitch,” Auston begged, stopping halfway down the stairs. “Please, marry me.”

“I can't, Auston.” Those words hit Auston like a dagger. He fell to the ground, tears streaming silently down his cheeks. 

“Get out!” Ema commanded, shoving him towards the door. “Now!” She slammed the door behind him before turning back to Patrick and Auston. “Okay, this is what we're going to do,” she continued to talk, but Auston couldn’t hear her. In that moment he was feeling the rush of a thousand heart breaks. He braced himself against the banister, trying to keep from falling over with grief. “This is nothing we haven’t been through before, we can do it again. I will never give up, sweetheart. Do you hear me, Auston? Never.” With those words, Auston knew what he had to do. The only way to free himself from the curse, to free his family from the curse, was to leave.

* * *

"We have both always known there was no guarantee,” Brian said, his head hung as Ema sat beside him. “We have spent so much time preparing him for the day things would be different, but we've never prepared him for the day that they're not.”

“What are you talking about, dear?” Ema questioned, taking his hand. 

“Maybe we should stop all this matchmaking and… I don’t know give him a puppy or something. Stop all of this heartbreak and-.” Creaking floorboards stopped him.

“Sweetheart?” Ema called out. “Auston, is that you?”

“Yeah, Mom. I'm just going to make some cocoa.”

“A puppy.? Brian really?”

“What can I say? I'm sorry you got stuck with me? I'm sorry I dragged you down with me. I know I'm the bad blood. I am the Matthews. I know that. The curse is on me, right? I am the curse.”

“Honey. Honey! Please. I knew what I was getting into.” Ema said gently, trying her best to calm her husband. “Auston, I think your father could use some cocoa too.” 

“Okay, Mom.”

“Actually,” Ema said, making her way to the kitchen. “I might have a cup too. I- Auston?” The kitchen light was off and the room was empty. “Auston?” Ema repeated, a little louder than before. Then she spotted it, the back door, wide open. She ran outside, only to find that the gate was also wide open.

Just like that, Auston was gone.

* * *

A week had passed since Auston left his home. He had got a hotel room using his mother’s credit card, and had been exploring the city under the cover of a scarf, which he used to cover his nose. Since he’d left, there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind about not saying goodbye to his parents. So, after a week, he decided to give them a call.

“Hello, Mom?”

“Auston? Oh my god sweetheart are you okay?” Ema’s voice shook on the other end of the line. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“What the hell were you thinking?” she yelled. “Has anyone seen you yet?”

“No, Mom, no one has-”

“Good, good. Where are you? We'll come and get you.”

“Mom, stop, please,” Auston said as calmly as he could. I'm just calling to say that I love you, and... goodbye.” 

“Auston don't-” He hung up before she could say another word.

* * *

Since Auston’s escape, Brad and Jack had taken to a “pig sighting” hotline, where people could call in if they happened to see Auston on the street. “No, not... not just... not just any pig,” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “Okay, you  _ need _ to stop talking.” He slammed the phone down just as another started to ring. “Hello? Yeah, that's right... You want to sell your own- wait, Auston?” Jack slapped the phone down as quickly as he could. “Brad, that was Auston on there-”

“Sure it was. Why would he be calling, to sell his own picture?”

“I- I think so,”

“Then why did you hang up?” Brad asked with a forced smile. “Are you really that scared of him?” Before Jack could respond the phone rang again.

“Auston?” Brad answered eagerly.

“How did you know it was me?”

“Just a lucky guess. You have something you want to sell us?”

“That's right,” Auston confirmed.

“May I ask why you’re doing this?”

“What do you care?” Auston snapped. “You're getting a freak.”

“Hey, nobody said anything about a freak.”

“Do you want it or not?”

“Yeah, of course I want it. Tell you what, there’s a mailbox on the corner of 5th and Mayfield, one of those old blue ones. Stick the photos under there, in your own time, of course.”

“Alright, fine. They’ll be there tonight.”

“Perfect,” Brad turned to Jack, hanging up the phone. “Now, was that so hard?”

That night, after he was sure no one was around, Auston slipped into a photo booth outside of the mall, took a few photos, and slid them under the mailbox as Brad had instructed.

* * *

“_Fangs_, Jack? Really?” Jack nodded his head. “There are no fangs.” Brad turned the pictures to him. “What were you on?”

“Well, he must just suck them back in-”

“Jack, you know, I've been thinking. I know and you know, maybe that's enough.” 

“Marchand, half the people in this city think I'm crazy. I've got to prove to them that I'm not. I'm sorry, I've got to do this.”

Less than twenty-four hours later, every newspaper in town had Auston’s face plastered on the front cover.

> ** _"Pig Boy" Matthews Revealed_ **
> 
> _ No need to check your eyes or look twice, what you see is real. Via an anonymous source, the pig faced girl has finally been revealed. As seen, the rumor of fangs (or, to be politically correct- tusks) has proven to be false. The Matthews family, known for their old money and lavish lifestyle, was- supposedly- cursed centuries ago by a bitter witch, seeking revenge for her daughter. Sources close to the family say that they have been screening possible suitors for Auston, looking for anyone who could break this unfortunate curse. Naysayers of the curse say the cause of the snout is simply a birth defect and that there is nothing more to the story. _

* * *

Auston had been everywhere he’d ever wanted to go since his escape; the zoo, the park, a street fair. But there was one place that he couldn’t get out of his mind:  _ Cloverdilly Pub _ . If the fear of running into Mitch there wasn’t enough, he had no idea how to approach a pub. After wandering around the city one muggy afternoon, he decided to give it a try. Slowly making his way to the bar, he could see the appeal. Wood panels covered the walls, but were mostly hidden by various photos, trophies, and televisions. The few people who had dared ventured out through the rain were sitting happily, talking to each other in bursts, but otherwise enjoying a beer alone.

“Can I get you something?” The barkeep asked Auston as he took a seat. 

“Yeah, uh, can I have a beer on tap, please?” Auston stuttered through his scarf. 

“Coming right up,” the man smiled, filling a glass. Giving Auston a nod, he slid it down the bar and watched as it smashed on the ground. “You're supposed to catch it.”

“Oh, sorry.” 

“Not a problem,” the man continued his smile. “Are you ready now?” Auston nodded, placing both hands up as if he were going to catch a baseball. The barkeep slid another glass his way. “There you go!” he exclaimed happily.

“Thanks,” Auston laughed, staring down at the glass.  _ How am I going to drink this with the scarf? _

“Is there a problem?” The man asked.

“Oh, uh, no. It’s just-” Auston stuttered. “Do you have any straws?” The man nodded, searching quickly under the bar. Five beers deep, Auston was still in the same position, simply watching the people around him. Being there, seeing everyone, he could definitely tell why Mitch liked it.

“Hey there, Freddie!” someone called, taking a seat at the bar. It was a rather good looking blond man with stunning blue eyes.

“Willy!” Freddie said, widening his smile. “How are you doing?”

“Are you sure you really want to know, or are you just asking?” Willy asked, resting his head in one of his hands. 

“I'm just asking.”

“So I'm driving my Vespa,” Willy continued anyways. “And some asshole comes out of nowhere and hits me! I go flying. I'm in the street and he's stands over me and he's, like,  _ Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't see.  _ How can he not see me, you know? I'm on a fucking Vespa with wings. I mean, you can see me. You can see me, right?” he turned to Auston.

“What?”

“See? He can see me.”

“You ought to sic Kappy on him," Freddie laughed.

“Yeah, it's a little too late. Kappy moved back to the ‘burbs.”

“Yeah? Sorry to hear it.”

“Yeah. We had no business being together, he was a picket fence kind of guy and, like, what guy looks at me and thinks picket fence,” Willy shrugged. “Unless he's crazy, and I'm done dating crazy. Been there, done that.”

“Unless it's meant to be, right?” Freddie added.

“Yeah. Right.”

“Right?” he turned back to Auston, who was barely conscious.

“Right.”

“I can't hear you with that thing on your face.” Willy laughed, sliding over to sit next to Auston. “So, what? Are you hiding from the law, or is that a bad nose job?” 

“Nose,” he answered, slipping around his stool. He tried to brace himself on the counter, but it didn’t do much good.

“What, are you drunk?”

“I'm drunk,” Auston nodded. 

“Hey, Freddie, how about a water for my pal, Scarfy, here?” Freddie nodded, grabbing a bottled water from behind the bar and pushing it their way.

“Hey, uh,” Auston leaned into Willy’s ear. “What's a Vespa?”

“What's a V...? You've never ridden on a Vespa?” Auston shook his head. “Oh, we’ve gotta change that.” Willy said, sliding off of his stool. He helped Auston off of his and guided him outside of the bar, where his Vespa was parked. He helped Auston onto the back seat before sliding onto the front. “Still got your scarf on?” he asked, turning to Auston. “Okay good, hold onto my waist we’re going to swing around the block.” Auston did as he instructed, locking his arms tightly around Willy’s waist. As they pulled out of the parking spot, he couldn’t help but smile. The gentle feeling of wind pushing his hair back was freeing in a way he had never experienced. The ride was shorter than he would have liked, but when Willy pulled back up to the bar he thanked him none the same. 

* * *

“That's his scarf! Look!” Brian whispered to his wife, pointing across the street. It had been almost three months since Auston’s disappearance, but every weekend Brian and Ema would walk the streets for hours hoping to spot their son.

“Auston!” Ema called out, getting his attention. Immediately, he took off running in the other direction. Ema and Brian ran after him, following him a few blocks down to the  _ Cloverdilly Pub _ .

“Oh, perfect!” Willy smiled, greeting Auston as he entered. “You're right on time. It's your turn to buy.” Auston’s breaths were audibly heavy as he bent over himself, trying to catch his breath. “Auston, are you-” before Willy could finish Auston fell to the ground. 

“Holy shit, Auston!” Freddie called, jumping over the bar. “Somebody pull this scarf off of him, he can't breathe!” Willy did as he instructed and tossed Auston’s scarf to the side, revealing his nose to the crowd that had gathered around him.

When Auston opened his eyes again he wasn’t in the pub, but in a hospital room. He slowly pushed himself out of bed and made his way to the door.  _ Who brought me here?  _ Opening it, he was greeted by a hoard of cameras, microphones, and yelling men.

_ “This way, Auston! Is it true you were chained up in the basement?” _

_ “Auston, do you have any other pig parts?” _

_ “With such a large nose, do you smell better than the rest of us?” _

“Sweetheart!” Ema called out, pushing through the hoard of reporters.  _ They're not running. Why aren’t they running? Everyone else runs.  _ “Go back inside, dear.” She dragged him inside by his wrist, slamming the door behind them. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“I’m so glad,” she let out a sigh of relief. “Now you can come home and-”

“I’m not going home,” Auston said bluntly.

“Of course you are."

“No. My face is out there now, mom. There’s nothing to hide from.”

“Auston, you can’t-”

“Can I borrow some money?” he asked, sliding his clothes on under the medical robe. “I'm running low.”

“Absolutely not,” Ema snorted. “You can come downstairs and get in the car so your father and I can take you home.”

“Mom,” Auston laughed, turning to her. “They want to know if you chained me up in the basement. Should I go tell the nice men outside how I wasn’t allowed outside for twenty one years?” Ema sneered, digging through her bag. 

“Please, just be safe,” she said, handing him a stack of cash.

“I will,” Auston smiled, planting a small kiss on her forehead. “See you later, Mom.”

> ** _Newly found Auston Matthews in hospital after tumblr in local bar._ **
> 
> _ Auston Matthews, the lost pig child of the Matthews family, was spotted today being admitted to the hospital after falling unconscious in Cloverdilly Pub. Matthews was treated for dehydration and released within a couple of hours. His in house doctor, who has asked to remain anonymous, stated that Matthews was just another victim of the unexpected heatwave and, with some extra fluids, will be back to full health in no time. _

* * *

“Mister Eichel!” A group of reporters stopped Jack and his father in a crowded office building. “Is it true you attempted to file assault charges against Auston Matthews?”

“No comment, please,” Jack’s father pushed them away, trying to clear a path.

“It's OK, Dad, I can handle it.” Jack said, taking a step closer to the reporters. “That man- that thing, belongs in a cage.”

“What a creep,” Someone yelled from the back of the crowd. 

Excuse us,” Jack’s father grabbed him by the arm, pulling him into an empty office. “Have you lost your mind?”

“You saw him,” Jack shrugged. “He's a complete monster. There’s no way I’m the only one who thinks he’s a-”

“The public loves him, Jack. We're a publicly traded company which means we love what the public loves. Get it?”

“What are you saying?”

“I'm saying you need to fix this. I don’t care how, just fix it.”

* * *

> ** _City Embraces Auston_ **
> 
> _ As Auston Matthews, the unlikely public figure with the pig face, travels around the city to meet with higher ups, including the mayor, he has been fully embraced by the people. Auston has been spotted just about everywhere taking pictures with passer bys, stopping for drinks at local bars, and eating at local venues. Sources say that Auston is “taking it one day at a time” and “embracing the new, exciting world in front of him. _

“Come on, Auston, you're on my team!” Someone shouted from the middle of the bar, pulling Auston into a game of darts. 

“Okay, sure!” Auston smiled. “I’ve got to warn you, though, I'm not very good.” He picked up on of the darts, aiming and slinging it across the room. He barely hit the target, getting it to stick right on the edge. “See, I told you,” he laughed. For a few minutes he stood there talking to the other players as they took their turn, but was pulled away by a familiar voice.

“Hi,”  _ Mitch. _

“Uh, hey.”  _ What is it about him that makes it impossible to form a thought? _

“You really did it, huh?” Mitch asked with a nervous smile. “I mean, er... you look great, you know, really happy.”

“Thanks,” Auston wasn’t sure what else to say. What do you say to someone who declined your marriage proposal?

“Yeah. You know, you inspired me. Doing what you did, going off on your own like that. I mean- l'm not-”

“I have to go,” Auston stopped him. He couldn’t bare being there any longer. 

“Yeah, sure. I just-” Before he could finish, Auston had walked straight past him and out of the bar. 

“Oh, darling, I am so glad I found you!” Ema called, intercepting Auston as soon as he stepped outside. “You have to come home right now, I have the most wonderful surprise!”

“Okay, Mom, but I should-” Before he could protest, Ema had pulled him into her car. The sped down the street, pulling into their driveway within a matter of minutes. “Mom, what is this?” Auston protested as Ema all but dragged him into the house.

“Auston,”Jack’s smiling face greeted him at the stair’s landing.

“What is this?” he asked, turning to his mother.

“Auston, I owe you an apology, so here it goes,” Jack took a deep breath. “I'm sorry I ran from my feelings.”

“Oh,” Auston let out a pointed laughed. “Is that what you were running from? I was certain you were running from me.”

“Only my feelings for you, my love.”

“Is this a joke?”

“Auston, don't make the boy beg,” Ema said, pushing him closer to Jack as she leaned into his ear. “Look at that face, he can break the curse.”

“But things are different now, Mom. I-”

“He's overwhelmed,” Ema said to Jack, cutting off. “Give us one second.” She dragged him out of the room.

“Why are things different, Auston? Because you're splattered all over the newspapers?”

“No, because I have friends.” Ema snickered. 

“Friends? Sweetie, those people you’ve been hanging around aren't friends. Those are fans.  _ Did you hear? The pig speaks ten languages. Oh, look the pig can play the piano.  _ You're just a talking pig to those people. A talking pig, honey. Jack wants to marry you,” She took a breath, lowering her voice. “Are you prepared to walk away from that chance? Our one and only chance at a normal life?” Auston hung his head. All his life he’d wanted to have a normal life, be able to walk down the street without being stared at or being afraid of rouge journalists. Now, all that was standing in his way of that life were two little words. Two words to have a normal life,  _ a normal face. _ He made his way back into the room where Jack was waiting, already on one knee.

“Will you marry me, Auston?”

“Sure.”

* * *

A few short weeks after the proposeal, Jack was already dragging Auston around to every public event in town, making sure that everyone knew they were engaged. 

“Oh, that was so wonderful,” Ema gawked after coming out of an opera. “Was it not wonderful?”

“Yes, wonderful,” Brian agreed through a yawn.

“We have to do this again,” She said, leaning over to Auston as he waited for his coat. “Jack, did you enjoy yourself?”

“I’d enjoy anything with Auston beside me,” Jack said through a smile. “Can I get my jacket?”

“Let me help you with that, sir,” Someone said from behind a counter. “It's just over there.” When Jack turned to grab it, he was met with Mitch’s pointed gaze.

“Okay, we're going,” Jack grabbed Auston’s wrist and pulled him towards the exit.

“But my coat-”

“It’s fine, we'll get you another one.”

“Jack, what are you doing? Where are we- Mitch.” It was as if every thought in Auston’s head disappeared when Mitch jumped in front of him.

“Hey, Auston,” Mitch smiled, quickly turning his attention back to Jack.

“We were just leaving,” Jack said, trying to pull Auston away.

“How are things, Jack?”

“Keep walking,” he instructed Auston, fighting against the crowd.

“I understand it got a bit grotesque there for a while, even puke ugly,” Mitch intercepted them.

“You two know each other?” Auston questioned, removing his arm from Jack’s grasp.

“As a matter of fact, we do,” Mitch smiled.

“Yale, wasn’t it?”

“No, I believe it was a Bedford, a Bedford van to be-”

“Haven't you hurt him enough?” Jack stopped him. 

“Bathroom. Now,” Before anyone could protest Mitch was dragging Auston away from the crowd. He barged to the back of the opera house, slamming open the bathroom door and pushing Jack inside. “You make me sick,” he yelled. 

“Why? I'm giving him exactly what he wants?” Jack laughed, brushing off his jacket. “I don't see anybody else lining up to do it. Oh, unless... unless you are,” he sneered. “Are you lining up?”

“That's not the point.”

“Yeah, it is. Yes, it is the point! Look, if you want to go out there and tell him that the only man willing to stand up and say ‘ _ I do’ _ still gags at the thought of kissing him, then be my guest, but it's not me you'll be hurting.” Jack pushed Mitch out of his path, leaving him alone in the bathroom.

* * *

“Mom, I feel like an idiot.”

“You look perfect, sweetheart.” “Just remember, in a few minutes from now, the curse will be broken.”

The next few hours were a blur of tuxedos, hair products, and flowers. The whole process felt wrong, completely ingenue.  _ What am I doing?  _ _ Isn't a wedding supposed to be a happy thing? Why do I feel like shit?  _ The next thing he knew, he was at the altar, watching as Jack joined him.

“Do you, Jack Robert Eichel take Auston Matthews to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish from this day forward until death do you part?”

“I do,” Jack said through a forced smile, not breaking eye contact with Auston.

“And do you, Auston Matthews take Jack Robert Eichel to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish from this day forward until death do you part?” Auston’s heart was pounding out of his chest.  _ I don’t love him, I know I don’t but what if he- no. I need to do this. For my mother, for myself. I- I should love him. But I don’t. I don’t love him. I won’t. _

“No.” A collective gasp was let out by the audience. Without another thought, Auston took off towards the house, heading straight for his bedroom. 

“Auston, wait!” Ema jumped up, chasing after him. “Auston! Please stop!”

“Look at me,” he yelled, barely making it to his door. 

“I am,” Ema said calmly. “What is it, dear? What’s going on?”

“No, Mom, look at me.”

“I am looking dear! What do you mean?”

“I can’t do this, Mom,” he said, covering his face with his hands. “I feel like an idiot.” 

“Auston, it's not too late, just think about what you're doing. This is the moment we have worked so hard for.”

“Mom, please-”

“Auston, we’re one yes away from a whole new life, a whole new you!”

“I don't want a whole new me,”

“Auston-”

“No!” Auston slammed his hands down, meeting his mother’s gaze. “I like myself the way I am!” In that second he fell to the ground in a gust of harsh, cold wind. Smoke filled the room, seemingly coming from nowhere. 

Just like that, _with seven simple words_, the curse was broken. 

* * *

A week without a pig nose.  _ An entire week _ . For the first time in his life, Auston was able to look in a mirror and see a person, not a thing. 

“It's not going to grow back, darling,” Ema said, watching him stare at his reflection.

“What makes you think I want it to?” Auston laughed, getting up to meet her in the threshold of his bedroom.

“ _ One of your own kind _ , God. I just assumed…” she trailed off. 

“We all did, Mom.”

“I could have broken the curse years ago if I'd just done my job as your mother and loved you as my own. Auston, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Mom,” he smiled, laying his head on her shoulder. “You were doing what you thought was right.” He planted a quick kiss on her forehead before leaving the room, making his way to the library. Grabbing a piece of paper and a pen he took a seat on the couch and began to write.

> _ Jack,  _
> 
> _ That first day in the library, you said that you too have felt imprisoned most of your life. Looking back, I now believe you were speaking from your heart. I fear I did you a terrible disservice that day; I knew you would run, I wanted you to, but perhaps if I had taken the time to really listen to you, maybe we could have helped each other find our way. _
> 
> _ I'm sorry. I hope this letter and this ring finds you well. _
> 
> _ Auston. _

* * *

Since his would be wedding, nearly a year ago, Auston had been making his own path. He had gotten an apartment downtown and had started working at the county’s botanical garden, keeping the grounds and planning their flower rotation for each season. No longer was he focused on finding an appropriate suitor or running from his parents, he was focused solely on himself. He was finally happy, though, something felt missing.  _ My nose? No. _ One day it finally hit him-  _ Mitch _ . 

Mitch had always been in the back of his mind. Though they didn’t know each other for long, Auston had been completely ready to marry him that day on the stairs. He could still remember the anguish he felt when Mitch rejected his proposal, but who could blame him? Someone you’ve been talking to for less than three months asking you to spend the rest of your life with them? It all seemed insane to him looking back.

Auston would hang around the Cloverdilly Pub at least twice a week, hoping to run into Mitch. “Maybe you should just call him,” Willy offered. 

“I don’t have his number,” Auston shrugged. “And what would I say?  _ Hey, Mitch. It’s me, remember when I had a pig nose and tried to get you to marry me?” _

“It seems like he was into you,” Freddie said, sliding him a beer. “Next time I see him I’ll try to get his number for you.”

“Thanks, Fred.” Auston waited, and waited, and waited for Freddie to return to him with Mitch’s phone number, but it never happened.

And then came Halloween. By some means, Willy had managed to get his address.  _ Go to his building’s Halloween Party, find him, spill his feelings _ . The plan was easier said than done, but at this point, Auston was willing to try anything.

“Okay, this is his place,” Willy said, pushing Auston towards the door.

“Hold on.” Auston reached into his pocket and pulled a mask, complete with a pig nose. 

“Seriously?” Willy laughed. “Isn’t that a little soon?”

“What?”

“Nothing, it's just kind of great to see the old you,” Willy said, pounding on Mitch’s door. Mitch opened it, scowling at the two costumed men in front of him. “Hi. Um... l… he's gotta pee. You got a bathroom?”

“Er... yeah,” Mitch shrugged. “Yeah, sure. I guess it's okay, come on in,” he lead Auston into his home, pointing towards the bathroom. “It looks like a good party,” he said as Auston shut the door.

“Why aren't you out there?” Auston called, taking off his mask and looking in the bathroom mirror.

“I’m packing.”

“Are you moving?” he asked, a little too frantically.

“Nah, I’ve got an out-of-town job, felt like getting out of the city for a while.”

“Away from the crowds?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Good for you. I uh, I had a friend once who um- he went on a work trip like that and he ended up staying there. I guess the city wasn’t for him.” Auston replaced his mask and opened the door, taking a few steps out of the bathroom. “Too many memories, you know?”

“Take off the mask,” Mitch said aggressively. Immediately realizing his tone, he back-tracked. “I'm sorry. It’s just, all Halloween I've been running into someone I used to know. Sorry, it’s ridiculous.”

“This someone, did he meant a lot to you?”

“Yeah, he did.”

“What happened?”

“I couldn't give him what he wanted,” Mitch sighed, turning back to his bag. “He wanted to be free and I couldn’t help him, so I let him go.” 

“You little shit!” Auston yelled, spotting a piano in the corner of Mitch’s apartment. “You lied to me! I guessed piano, and you said-” he was cut off by Mitch, who had pulled him into a tight hug.

“Auston, I'm sorry,” he whispered, his head buried in Auston’s neck.

“I know.”

“No, I- I don't have the power to break the curse. I know I was born into a blue-blooded family but my father disowned me and I-”

“It's okay, Mitch,” Auston cut him off.

“Auston, you don’t understand. I care about you so much but I can’t help you, I can’t make you happy.”

“Mitch, I don’t need you to,”

“Oh,” Mitch stopped, talking a step away. “You found someone? Good. It’s- that’s amazing. I’m happy that someone can break-”

“Mitch, no,” Auston smiled, taking a step closer to him, again closing the gap between them. “It turns out that I could.” He slowly brought his hand to the mask, pulling it off to reveal his completely normal, snout free, face. Mitch had to catch himself from stumbling back as he stared at Auston. “It's me, Mitch. I’m still me.”

“You’re- I mean you-” he grabbed Auston’s arms, pulling him into a kiss. Auston had never kissed anyone before but the way he melted into Mitch’s embrace seemed about right. They stayed there for a lifetime, locked in each other’s arms. When they finally pulled away from each other, Mitch’s smile was the only thing Auston could see.

“What?” he asked, leaning his forehead against Mitch’s.

“I kinda miss the nose,” Mitch laughed.

“Oh,  _ fuck off _ .”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi gravityinglass! I hope you enjoyed this work! Penelope was one of my favorite movies growing up, so when I saw one of your prompts was a romance novel I couldn't resist!


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